


Fix Yourself

by null_bdh



Series: Fix Yourself [1]
Category: Infinity Train (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, Digital Art, F/M, Gen, Post Season 3 Finale, Serious Injuries, Simon lives, Trans Female Character, hurt with little comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:42:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26499568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/null_bdh/pseuds/null_bdh
Summary: When attacked by the ghom, Simon is saved at the last moment by Grace and wakes up later having to deal with his injuries and what he's done as Grace inexorably moves away from him.
Relationships: Simon Laurent & Grace Monroe, Simon Laurent/Grace Monroe
Series: Fix Yourself [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1927435
Comments: 21
Kudos: 183





	Fix Yourself

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: this fanfic now has art! Hell yes!

Simon painfully wakes up in a hospital bed, and for a moment, he’s tempted by the faint hope that all of this- the train, meeting Grace, falling in love with her, building the Apex, the truth about Amelia, the lies, the betrayal- is a dream. But then, in the corner of his eye, he spots a small, cartoony creature wearing a white coat and scrubs too big for its body goofily strutting in the corridor, holding medical files with colorful stickers on them. A _null_.

The worst though, is when he turns his head to see Grace sitting by his side, passed out, her head lying on his bed.

“... I think I would’ve preferred dying, honestly.” He grumbles with a frown then immediately regrets it and tries to relax his facial muscles, as doing something as small as emoting just filled his entire face with a horrible sensation. It’s like his flesh is on _fire._

Grace wakes up with a start. It looks like she’s been waiting there for a while.

“Simon! You’re awake.” she says, and her expression is hard to read. On the surface, Simon can detect tinges of both relief and worry in her eyes, but the way her face tenses up lets him know she’s probably trying to repress a lot right now. He decides to say nothing for the moment.

“The doctors- they did their best to save your arm.” Grace says as she points to his right arm. It’s completely bandaged, and also handcuffed to the bed. 

_“I guess I deserve that.”_ Simon thinks.

“They don’t know if it will recover completely, though. And your face- well, it’s kind of the same. Only time will tell. But for now, you’re out of the woods.”

Simon immediately tries to touch his face with his other hand but- “I wouldn’t do that if I were you-” it’s held back by another handcuff. The metal bites into his skin, and even though this side of his body seems a lot more healthy than the other, it still hurts like hell. Simon represses a groan as he curls up reflexively.

“... Yeah, or that’ll happen.” Grace completes, cringing at Simon’s pain.

He looks at the arm. It doesn’t have any bandages, but the skin looks unusually dark, ashy and and leathery, his numbers only glowing faintly through the damaged tissue, and there’s an IV in it.

“Was this really necessary?” Simon asks.

“Uh, _yes!_ ” Grace answers flippantly, raising her eyebrows and shoulders. “I’d think that much would be obvious by now.”

“And the doctors?”

“Denizens. They look funny but they know what they’re doing.”

“How did you even know how to find them?”

“Where do you think I’ve been getting my prescription refilled?”

“Ah.”

Simon goes silent.

“Why, you’re welcome Simon, _yes,_ it _was_ very kind of me to save you from a murderous roach-dog creature and then to immediately bring you here to get medical attention. I’m so very glad you’re being appreciative of my efforts!” Grace blurts out angrily, then storms out of the room, not expecting an answer. Simon is left there with his own thoughts.

_“So Grace really is alive.”_ he thinks to himself, a slight frown on his face.

_“_ ** _I’m_ ** _alive.”_

For some reason, that thought hits Simon the hardest, and he tries as hard as he can not to start crying again. Things will never be the same. He quickly passes out again, exhausted by his injuries.

* * *

This time, when Simon wakes up, it’s not just pain he’s feeling, it’s like lightning bolts are coursing through his body, burning his very nerves. Through the blinding pain, Simon can open his eyelids enough to make out that his IV bag is empty. With a groan, he shakingly scrambles to find a remote on his bed to call for help, but wherever the thing is, it’s out of reach for him. Uncontrollable sobs start escaping from his mouth, which then turn into howling. Whatever that cursed animal did to him, it mustn’t have been pretty. Simon curses One-One for allowing those creatures to attack passengers, then revises his thought- he feels like cursing the whole train for even existing. For the first time in years, he sincerely wishes he were home.

Alerted by Simon’s pained cries, two of the fun-sized doctor creatures rush in to check up on him and replace the empty bag of pain medication attached to his arm. He gives them a nasty look but says nothing, and dozes off before remembering to ask for the remote.

* * *

Slowly but surely, the pain starts to get less intense as Simon recovers, but nothing but sleep can ease the suffocating feeling he experiences every time he thinks about Grace. He hasn’t seen her again since he first came to. Maybe she only comes in while he’s asleep. He has no idea how long he’s been in the hospital either, and that idea fills him with anxiety. Is everything just… carrying on without him?

He soon gets an answer when Grace eventually visits him while he’s conscious. He’s finally been given a mirror and has spent the past hour trying to peek beneath the bandages on his face to see how bad the damage is, and how well he’s recovering. He’s surprised to see there aren’t any numbers there- from the light that was emanating from his skin before the attack, he could’ve sworn even his face was covered in them.

Hearing familiar footsteps coming from the hallway, Simon pivots the mirror he’s holding to see the entrance of his room. 

“Is that…. a melon?” Simon mumbles as he squints at the mirror.

Grace raises the plastic bag she’s carrying so Simon can see it better. There’s a small yellow melon in it, as well as a knife, a plate and a couple of paper towels. “I thought maybe you’d like to eat,” Grace says with a shrug. Her face seems tired, but the rest of her body is now exempt from all the bruises and scratches Simon saw last time.

“I have no idea if I’m even hungry,” Simon says, “I just feel numb.”

“Welp, numb or not, I have a melon, and you. Are going to eat it.” Grace says as she pulls a chair to Simon’s bedside and starts cutting out a slice of melon. Turning her head to Simon, she stares at him for a bit then just shoves one end of the rind-less slice into his mouth, not bothering to cut it into smaller pieces. 

Simon glares at her, then starts silently gnawing at the piece of fruit. As predicted, he can’t taste much, but the feeling of something so juicy and crispy in his mouth makes him realize how dry and uncomfortable it was until now.

“Aren’t they missing you right now?” Simon asks.

“Who?”

“The Apex.”

Grace looks at her shoes for a bit.

“There is no Apex. Not anymore.” She says quietly, playing with her hair.

Simon glares at her with such big eyes it looks like they’re gonna pop out of his skull.

“There was just no point in it anymore. I disbanded it, and-”

“You did WHAT?!” Simon yelps.

“Well- what, did you think I was just gonna let this whole mess carry on while knowing the truth? We- _I_ have to get these kids home, Simon!” Grace cries out, visibly upset.

Simon slouches and sinks deeper into the huge pillows of his hospital bed, dumbfounded. All their hard work, gone.

“After everything we’ve done…” he mumbles.

Grace frowns.

“It was the best I could do. It’s pointless to keep pushing in a direction we know to be the wrong one.”

“It didn’t have to be that way. We could’ve kept it a secret.” Simon mutters.

“And for what?? There’s nothing for us on this train, don’t you get it? Nothing! It’s all… creepy self-betterment BS. The sooner we’re off the train, the better.”

“ _And for what,_ ” Simon echoes, “we’ve been missing for _years_. Maybe those kids can find their families again and pretend to be happy, but me- _us,_ there’s nothing for us out there. What do you think is gonna happen when you mysteriously reappear after almost a decade missing, looking nothing like you did when you left? No, you’re better here, just like I am. Because we just don’t belong anywhere.” 

Grace finally reaches her boiling point.

"Honestly? _Fuck you_ , Simon, for all the shit you've put me through, and for making _your_ problems mine," she screams. 

"I'm genuinely sorry for leading you to believe the wrong things about me- about the train, but I was- we were both _kids_ ! And _now_ _?_ We may not be all that grown up, but we're not _children_ anymore. And I know how hard it is to own up to the bad things you've done, but you can't just keep ignoring evidence simply because it contradicts what you already believe in, that's not how the real world works. "

"This isn't the real world. The real world isn't even near as cruel as this... fucked-up version of Wonderland." Simon responds bitterly. 

"... Simon, you know what I mean. You've seen what's happened to your face, you know it's not just magically going to heal overnight. _Fuck_ , Simon, you could've _died_ out there!"

"Yeah, well, so could you."

Grace freezes up. 

"I tried to _kill_ you, Grace,” Simon blurts out, “ _What are you doing here_?" 

"...You know, I wish I could just tell you 'I don't know' and make myself look like some kind of altruistic hero, but the truth is, I just couldn't bring myself to abandon you. Not out of any human compassion, but because for all those years, you were my friend, and giving up on you now means none of it mattered, and that this," she says as she waves her arms around, gesturing to the hospital room they're in and to Simon's face, "all really happened, and I'm never gonna see the Simon I grew up with, ever again. And I don't know I know how to live with that weighing on my mind."

“Well, I’m glad you care about the Simon you didn’t betray, at the very least. Must’ve been nice being friends with him. Too bad we can’t go back.”

Grace’s face hardens, her nostrils flare up and her brows furrow. If Simon weren’t handcuffed to his bed, he’d probably instinctively try to run away.

"See- this is what pisses me off the most about you, Simon- you're not even ignorant, you're just _angry_." she rants, trying not to breathe too heavily to avoid betraying the extent of her own anger, but it’s pointless.

“Yeah, you tried to kill me, just like you killed Tuba, and just like you could’ve killed Hazel too if you’d known what she was! I am _not_ sorry for lying to you. God knows I’ve done things I’m not proud of, but if I did get something right, it was this. Just because we were wrong about numbers and denizens and everything else doesn’t mean we’re ruined. You’re not dumb, Simon. You know right and wrong, and you _can_ get better. You just don’t _want_ to.“

“So what, you’re gonna stay with me and constantly pester me til I become a better person, is that it?” Simon sneers.

Grace can’t repress a chuckle.

“Oh, _**God** , no_. No, Simon, I’m here to make sure you recover so I don’t have your health on my mind when I leave you, and then once it’s done, you’re gonna be monitored by the denizens to make sure you don’t hurt anyone else.”

Those words hurt to hear, but they also hurt to say. Grace isn’t lying, but there’s nothing in this world that can make this separation not painful. Hesitantly, Grace raises her right arm to show Simon. Her numbers are back in the triple digits. They both reflexively wince at the sight of such a low number.

“Every time I’ve come here for you, it’s gone up again. But outside of that, I’ve been putting in the work, learning about myself, trying to be better. And it’s gone down. Whether you like it or not, I’m getting off this train.”

Simon looks pitiful now.

“So, it’ll just be me, all on my own.” Simon mutters. “And what if I can’t get off?”

“I’d say I can’t change you, but truth is, I probably could. It’s just... not my job to do. But I hope- and I think- you can do it, Simon, I really do. I love you, but I’m not gonna be the one to fix you. You’ll just have to fix yourself.”

Simon stares at his right arm. He doesn’t even know if it’s going to heal well enough for him to be able to see his number anymore. He might be going into this completely blind. Grace follows his eyes and seems to have the same thought.

Silence weighs heavily on the room, now. Quietly, Grace cuts the rest of the melon into slices and puts them on a plate she lays on a night table next to Simon’s bed with the paper towels, and takes the knife with her.

“I’m glad you’re alive,” Grace says as she heads towards the door, “it was nice hearing your voice again.”

And as she steps out, Simon can see her number go down one last time.

**Author's Note:**

> I love Simon very much and saw his death more as a tragic event than just pure karmic retribution. The train is fucked up and were it not for its existence, we wouldn't have this pile of messed-up, traumatized kids. On the other hand, Grace was right when she said she didn't owe Simon anything, so I wanted to reconcile both those feelings into one fic.


End file.
